


Halcyon

by forgotten_silence



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-24 22:44:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12022620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forgotten_silence/pseuds/forgotten_silence
Summary: For the first time, Urie understands why they say that silence rings the loudest. [ spoilers for tg:re 55 ::1168 words::] .





	Halcyon

**Author's Note:**

> Halcyon: [Adj] denoting a period of time in the past that was idyllically happy and peaceful.

The knocks on her door are much quieter now, in the mornings, with a soft, “Saiko, it’s time for work” or “we have a meeting” accompanying by Mutsuki’s voice, or Uries rougher rap, once, twice, and then, “Yonebayashi, we have a meeting.” Then there is silence as their footsteps fall away and Saiko buries herself further into her comforter and presses the buttons on her console. 

There is nobody to drag her out of the house by force, no one knocking her door down and dragging her out of bed. Saiko misses a lot of meetings and probably important investigations she doesn’t really care about. 

She avoids looking at the empty living room couch when she goes downstairs. Instead, she just gathers as many snacks as she can, maybe fixes herself some food occasionally because lately, maman has been forgetting to put away food for her. Or he hasn’t been cooking at all, judging by the burnt residue on the pan that someone had put into the cupboard without trying very hard to scrub.

Occasionally, she catches a glimpse of Urie or Mutsuki, and sometimes, Maman. There is something hollow and empty in her stomach when she walks past the bedroom door that remains shut, or when she sees the empty living room couch and the blank screen of the TV, and the mug that sits, unused, in the cupboard.

Saiko thinks it wouldn’t be so bad, if only everyone acted normal. Maman is, by far, the worst. He has dyed his hair jet  _black_. It hangs like a dark rain cloud over his face, bringing into sharper focus the shadows she didn’t even know was there. There is no softness to him anymore, this new, black-haired maman, even as he smiles and scratches his chin and tells her he loves his new hair.

 

* * *

The silence in the Chateau is deafening, even with his earphones plugged in.

It hangs heavy in the air, in the bass that doesn’t vibrate the walls and floor from the room next to his, in the empty living room where everyone used to watch movies together. In the training room downstairs, the lack of  _noise (_ annoyingly loud thuds and bumps and that obnoxiously loud voice he is expecting but  _doesn’t hear_ ) threatens to suffocate him.

For the first time, Urie understands why they say that silence rings the loudest.

The funeral is a communal memorial service for everyone who died on the Tsukiyama Operation. They stand in rows next to each other, him, with Sasaki on one side and Mutsuki on the other. He is sort of glad Saiko isn’t here either, because with the two of them missing, he could sort of pretend they’d both slept in late. 

People say meaningless words about sacrifices and  _the greater good_ and then all the caskets are lowered with the National Anthem playing. Afterwards, there is an award ceremony where Shirazu is awarded an honorary medal and moved up to First Class, along with a  lot of other investigators who would have no use for such titles anymore. It is nothing more than a sham, because what use is a title for a dead person, but everyone claps their hands anyway.

Sometime after that, it is Mutsuki who starts leaving the TV on, Mutsuki (quiet, unassuming), who goes into Shirazu’s room with Sasaki and helps pack everything up while Saiko hides away in her room and Urie punches through the wall in the training room. His knuckles are blue and bleeding when he finally goes upstairs, but what makes him pause is the door to Shirazu’s room, which is open for once, and empty, down to the posters of horrible rock bands he used to have up on the walls. There is only bare furniture; a bed without sheets, a mattress, a desk and chair, and the shadows on the wall where the posters used to be. Urie feels a strange sensation building up inside him, one that constricts something in his throat and makes it hard for him to breath. He backs out of the empty room and closes the door shut, and leans on the wall next to it, trying to even out his breathing.

There is a nagging in the back of his mind, a sort of responsibility that has fallen on  _him_ , somehow, now that Shirazu is gone. It weighs heavy in his heart even when he tries his best to ignore it, burying himself in work and training and even more work (who knew writing up reports could actually be relieving?). But in the end, less than a week after Sasaki and Mutsuki finish emptying Shirazu’s room, Urie finds himself walking down the familiar hallways of the CCG’s hospital.

Shirazu’s sister is small, dwarfed even more by the  _thing_ that branches out from the right side of her face in a sick parody of a burnt tree trunk. Urie stops himself from gasping out loud, but he can’t help freezing in his step or staring.  _  
_

_So this is RCS disease.  
_

Up close, Urie can see that it actually starts from somewhere right below her left eye. She has a feeding tube going into her mouth and an oxygen mask fastened over her face. He can see grey shadows around her eyes, making her skin look even pastier than it is. Urie sits down on the chair beside her. 

He doesn’t know what he is doing here, exactly, or what he should be doing now that he has come to see her. It is Shirazu’s responsibility to be here, Shirazu’s responsibility to look after his sister and pay her hospital bills. Not  _his._ Not Urie’s. But he can’t bring himself to leave. The same sense of debt that brought him here keeps him by her bedside, even though her eyes are closed.

_“Haru.. she.. If I’m not there for her, let her die peacefully.”_

_Nobody is going letting her die, you idiot._

Urie turns up the music in an attempt to drown out his thoughts, and stares at the girl on the bed, and then out the window beyond, where the sun is starting to set, throwing the whole room into an orange glow. 

Soon, it would be dark.

“Nii-chan?” her voice reaches him in that moment between one song and the next, pulling him out of his thoughts and back to where he is, right now. Haru’s eyes are open, and she is looking at him blearily. “You’r not.. you’re not Nii-chan.”

“No,” Urie pauses the music in favour of listening. “He-”  _  
_

_Does Haru know?  
_

“He-” Urie tries again, but Haru looks so small, so fragile in her bed with all her wires and the mask that he can’t bring himself to tell her. It isn’t his place, anyway. The CCG would inform the next of kin; they had people for that sort of thing. “I’m Urie,” he says instead, “Would you like to listen to some music?” 

“Okay,” Haru says after a beat. 

_I’m not letting her die, Shirazu._

**Author's Note:**

> Re-uploading old works. You can find the rest of them on my tumblr.


End file.
